


The Crown Tower - from Royce’s point of view

by espark



Category: The Riyria Chronicles - Michael J. Sullivan, The Riyria Revelations - Michael J. Sullivan
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, Riyria, Riyria Chronicles, Sexual Content, The Crown Tower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 03:13:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8040268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espark/pseuds/espark
Summary: This job was getting more and more complicated and I vowed to give Arcadius a piece of my mind when I got back. And to think, at first, I’d thought I might enjoy this assignment. I merely had to follow my attractive, if dim-witted, target, stand back and make sure he arrived safely. But no, things couldn’t have stayed simple.





	1. Vernes

**Author's Note:**

> The Rape/Non-Con warning is only for a dream sequence in chapter 8. 
> 
> Mature content includes insinuations about sex (but no actual depictions of sexual relations), some violent fight scenes, and some swearing.

I first spotted him leaving the lantern-lit docks of Vernes. A tall, well-built young man walking alongside a scrawny boy carrying a canvas satchel. I quickly dismissed the adolescent boy and focused on my target. He was just as Arcadius had described him - light brown hair, tanned skin, blue eyes, dressed in the Calian fashion with three swords strapped to his back. The ratty boy was rambling on about witches and fortune telling. 

The boy said brightly, “We have already passed a dozen perfectly dark corners.” 

I immediately suspected the boy was a con-artist. Why else would a filthy street urchin be pestering a new arrival like that? The boy smiled broadly, overly reassuring, and asked the man’s name. Lovely, now I’d have to keep an eye on the sneaky kid too.

The large handsome man extended his hand and smiled back, taken in completely “Hadrian, Hadrian Blackwater.” 

The narrow streets were dark and it was easy to follow them unobserved. The two nattered on amiably, making no attempt keep their voices down. 

“Did your mother name you that?” the man asked, his voice a pleasing baritone.

“Oh most certainly,” - the pair continued around a corner and I kept in earshot - “rumor has it I was both conceived and born on the same crate of pickles.” 

As I followed Hadrian and the boy, I was quickly struck by Hadrian’s stride. I could tell the man was an experienced soldier, walking with long easy steps, his hips rising and falling in a mesmerizing rhythm. Through his light, linen clothing, it was easy to make what must lay underneath. Behind his weapons lay a strong back, broad shoulders and toned arms. I could tell that despite his size, he was lean, with not an ounce of fat to spare. Although I usually was drawn to a slimmer, lithe type, I couldn’t deny this soldier’s obvious appeal. Perhaps this job wouldn’t be a complete waste of time. At least there will be a nice view.


	2. The Bernum River, part 1

Later than night, I settled into my berth on the barge to Colnora. I thought back over Hadrian’s movements since he’d gotten on board. Thankfully, the boy, Pickles (seriously, what kind of name was that anyway?) had been removed from the situation, but new concerns had arisen. There was something suspicious about the woman, Vivian, and likely the three merchants as well. I initially hoped they would leave me and my target alone, but Hadrian seemed incapable of keeping well enough alone. 

The fat merchant asked “You’re just up from Dagastan. Warm there I imagine?” They talked about the recent spate of murders and how Hadrian was above suspicion. The merchant continued “You’re one of those off the Eastern Star from Calais. It would make more sense to suspect myself. At least I had the opportunity. You weren’t even in town.” They continued on, Hadrian swallowing whole all the merchant’s blather. In fact, the soldier seemed to be some kind of magnet for curious strangers and, what was worse, instead of turning them away, he encouraged them. Preposterous. 

I wondered how this man could be a battle-hardened soldier. It was like he was some kind of large, oafish child. Despite the menacing swords he’d brought with him, he didn’t act like he knew how to use them. He opened himself up to people without hesitation, both physically and personally, chatting amiably with complete strangers. What a fool. Now that I thought about it, Arcadius had probably exaggerated Hadrian’s skills in battle. The old man was always twisting the truth. It didn't matter. As long as the others passengers keep their distance, I wouldn’t have to step in. 

Lying in bed, I took a deep breath and let myself relax. There little chance of danger tonight. I might as well sleep while I had the chance. However, sleep wouldn’t come. My mind kept playing back Hadrian Blackwater’s impressive stride, long legs, and broad shoulders, his body slightly rising and falling effortlessly. As disappointing as his intellect might be, he certainly had an impressive body. It didn’t take long before I could picture him in all his glory, his clothes sort of fell away and I was left with the image of his naked, well-muscled body walking directly in front of me. I could easily imagine the type of toned ass that might come with a body like that. Oh yes. My body responded to the lovely mental picture of Hadrian, naked and magnificent. I decided to indulge my imagination and I slipped my hand down, moving my grip to the rhythm of Hadrian’s enticing walk.


	3. The Bernum River, part 2

The next day, matters got more complicated. Something was definitely off about Vivian. Her story about desperately selling her wedding ring to gain passage was bogus. Also, the merchants’ paranoid appraisal of me was troubling. Not that I was concerned for my own sake, but I didn’t need them interfering with Hadrian’s journey to the university at Sheridan. I had a job to and needed to make a plan for all possible outcomes. I decided to investigate all the passengers, comb through their belongings and take whatever steps were necessary. 

As I was deciding whether to search the crates below decks or the cabins first, Hadrian approached me. “Excuse me,” he began, “My name’s Hadrian Blackwater.” 

I stilled and decided to answer, but as tersely as possible. “Congratulations.” Inwardly, I cursed him and hoped he would take the hint and go away.

He tried again, “Ah, what’s yours?” 

This man, as attractive as he might be, was seriously trying my patience. I turned away and said, “Leave me alone.” How dense could he be? 

He persisted oblivious and pleasant, “We’re all cooped up on this barge. We might as well get to know each other.”  
I stayed silent. The small waves of the Bernum lapped gently against the sides of the barge and a cool wind brushed my face. Why on earth would Arcadius be interested in this dolt? Could a person be more naive? 

He kept going, ”Just thought you should know there might be a killer on board.” 

I thought, ‘You don’t say? I’d been called many things, and _killer_ was one of the more accurate terms.’

I turned back and examined him. He had a proud, open face, a day worth of brown stubble on his chin and cheeks and clear blue eyes, eyes that were warm and inviting. I scowled, “Go away.” Perhaps the man had some kind of hearing problem?

Thankfully, he gave up went back to the merchants and their discussion about my dangerous eyes. They had no idea what I was capable of.


	4. Sheridan

After taking care of the aftermath of the events on the barge, I followed Hadrian to Sheridan. This job was getting more and more complicated and I vowed to give Arcadius a piece of my mind when I got back. And to think, at first, I’d thought I might enjoy this assignment. I merely had to follow my attractive, if dim-witted, target, stand back and make sure he arrived safely. But no, things couldn’t have stayed simple. In fact, after he’d arrived in at the university, Hadrian couldn’t help but introduce himself to every student he ran into. The man might was well carry a sign around his neck, ‘Hello, I’m a bumbling traveler with nothing better to than share my life story with whoever I come across. Care to take advantage?’ What a fool.

I found a good vantage point from a window on the third floor of one of the larger buildings, Glen Hall. Oddly, the sycophantic street urchin had turned up in Sheridan soon after Hadrian arrived. I listened carefully as they entered the library. The boy was lugging a large book that looked to weigh as much as he did.

“Can I help with that?“ Hadrian asked.

“Oh no” the boy replied. He was definitely up to some scheme or other. But what could he hope to gain from his association with Hadrian?

After they left the library, Hadrian showed the boy one of his swords. “I made it.” 

The boy answered in awe “You master Hadrian? Truly?”

Hadrian smiled proudly “My father was a smith. I grew up besides a forge.” 

Doubtless the man was next going to confess that his favorite color was blue and that he liked to take long sunset walks along the river. Perhaps he’d offer to cook the boy dinner and read him a bedtime story while he was at it.

As the two walked across the plaza, I was once again entranced by Hadrian’s gait. The evening light was just enough to make out his tall form. His confident, steady pace was as alluring as ever and I couldn’t take my eyes away.

Just then, Hadrian glanced up and spotted me. No! I darted back into the shadows, but too late. 

“Did you see that!” Hadrian exclaimed. 

“See what?” asked the boy.

“Up in that window just now, a man in a hood!” Hadrian answered excitedly. 

Damn his attractive stride; that was sloppy of me. Thankfully Hadrian didn’t investigate and he resumed his amiable conversation with the boy. I was again astounded at how genuinely glad the two had been to see each other again. It made no sense. They’d just met a few days ago. Now they were best of friends? What utter idiots, both of them, to be so trusting. No... I realized their reunion was no happy accident. I mulled it over and became convinced that there was more to Pickles than meets the eye. I’d have to watch him too. True, it seemed Hadrian was gullible enough to make friends that quickly, but there is no way two people could both be that eager and amiable. Normal people did not make friends that quickly, especially not scrawny, dirt poor, orphan boys.

I couldn’t help but think back to my time with the wolves on the streets of Ratibor. In fact, it felt like a whole lifetime ago. I remembered how it took me months to get comfortable with the nuances of the gang, the hierarchy and all the unwritten rules. Making friends was next to impossible. Of course if it hadn’t been for Merrick, I probably never would have settled in at all. Ah Merrick, just thinking his name sent a stab of nostalgia and hurt running through me. 

Merrick had taught me everything - my letters, my numbers, and well, everything. 

First, I remembered that summer day we’d found a spot of shade under the mill bridge and he’d had left me with that impressive hickey on my hip. Then, I thought of the afternoon we’d been on up the old church roof, passing the time and fondling each other through our pants. It’d been a great contest, trying to see who could make the other ruin his trousers first. Finally, I remembered the countless nights Merrick had curled up next to me on our tattered pallet, our hungry bodies pressed together perfectly. 

Curse the day I had fallen and fallen hard for that clever bastard. I had to admit, for so long, being partners with Merrick had been wonderful. God help me, I still missed him. In many ways, we’d grown up together. And yet, I also hoped he rotted in hell. Yes, he’d taught me everything. Without Merrick, I wouldn’t have known how to pick pockets, to slip soundlessly across rooftops, to assess a target’s social class and the value his purse. But he’d also taught me the hard way not to let my guard down or get attached. If Merrick had taught me anything, it was that people are just tools to be used and discarded.


	5. Introductions

Arcadius introduced us in his office, by the reptile cage. It went about as well as I’d expected. Hadrian recognized me and, pointlessly, drew his swords, “That’s the murderer from the barge!”

Instead of fleeing as Hadrian instructed, the professor turned and locked the door. He said casually, “Yes, yes, that’s Royce.” 

Arcadius tried to explained but Hadrian didn’t listen. The big man was so obtuse. When he advanced on me, thinking to attack, I darted up and out the window to the second story balcony. I looked down and was pleased to see the spite in his face. The drive to fight had sparked something fierce in him and given Hadrian a certain intensity that was difficult to ignore. Eventually, after I explained what had really happened on the barge, Hadrian put his swords down. Idiot. He was still far too trusting.

After hearing what Arcadius wanted, for us to work together, I protested. I’d been planning this job for months and the plan was for me to do it alone. I put my hood up but also glared at the professor. 

“Look old man, I don’t need him for the job. I don’t want a partner and I were looking for one, what I’d require is someone with stealth, finesse and some level of intelligence.” 

I couldn’t believe the professor was insisting I take Hadrian with me on this fool’s errand. Frustration welled up inside of me. Why was I being saddled with a stupid, blundering oaf? But then, when Arcadius promised this assignment would pay his price, I couldn’t argue any further. I told myself to calm down assess the situation. I just needed a plan. I always had a proper plan, accounting for all the various contingencies. This time was no different. 

I challenged “What if he dies? I can’t be responsible for his stupidity.”

“I don’t expect you too.” Arcadius answered, “But I’ll hold you to an honest attempt, a fair treatment.”

I looked over at Hadrian and smiled. An idea easily came to mind and I was content with it. I decided the best course of action was to dump Hadrian early on and finish the job alone. No problem.


	6. Arcadius

Almost two weeks later, I delivered the journal to Arcadius. 

The old man barely looked the old book and asked, ”Where is Hadrian?”

I replied, “Most likely dead.” 

“What?” he looked sharply at me.

“Do you have hearing problem now old man?” I shot back dryly.

“Tell me what happened.” he said.

I explained, succinctly, that Hadrian hadn’t followed our plan to flee the tavern when the Nyphron Church guards had come. I could tell he wasn’t pleased.

“Look, we agreed.” I argued, “I can’t be responsible for his poor decisions. I’ve done enough babysitting for this brainless clod already. You told me to treat him fairly, not hold his hand when we cross the street and wipe his nose when he sneezes.” 

As we’d traveled to Iverton, Hadrian had driven me crazy. He’d ridden behind me, so at least I hadn’t been tempted to look at him, but something about him always irritated me. For example, Hadrian had this bizarre habit of tying and untying knots in the saddle straps as he rode. His presence had been more bearable when he was silent on the road. However, he’d gotten chatty and resentful once we’d stopped to rest. I’d felt like my brain was going to explode. He said all kinds of insane things, stuff like ,”That tree looks like a goddamn bear,” or “Moon looks like fingernail.” I came close to spitting out a mouthful of water when he said something about a “pig riding dwarf that shot eggs at me.” He’d just kept babbling as if he’d been storing up inane phrases the whole day and was now launching them at my common sense. 

I couldn’t stand his chatter anymore and had to fire back. He was dense and naive, I was realistic and effective. I told him “Graves are where people like you end up.” No matter what, the large man just got under my skin. 

He didn’t listen to me, of course, but the arguing seemed to clear something between us. I felt we’d agreed to come to an understand and we despised each other equally. 

There were other little things about Hadrian. I had noticed how he had been clean shaven when we’d set out from Sheridan, but he hadn’t bothered with a razor on the road. His brown beard had crept back gradually onto his jaw and around his mouth, making him look more wild each day. The most striking thing was how he sounded when he slept, not quite snoring, but making wet mouth sounds with the occasional sleepy grunt. Although, he’d had that one good idea about coating a canvas sack in pitch to keep the water out. In fact, it was hard to believe he’d actually come up with it on his own. I shook the man out of my mind. Hadrian was dead and gone. Good riddance. 

In the office, I put down my hood and told Arcadius sternly, “He couldn’t keep up with me, that’s all.” 

I could tell Arcadius was containing his anger and disappointment. He sighed and simply said, “Hadrian is more resourceful than you give him credit for.” 

I retorted, “You should have seen how he behaved in the tavern. He practically flirted with the proprietor.” I kept on,. “I swear that man had to have been the most naive person I have ever met. There is no way he escaped that encounter alive.”  
Arcadius shook his head slightly, his white beard waving back and forth. “I’m sure he is still alive. In fact, I’d wager a guinea he’ll be back within two days.”

I turned to glared at him, “I’ll take that wager old man. Hadrian is dead and I’ll be glad to never see his idiotic face again.”

Arcadius nodded, “Come back tomorrow night after I’ve had a chance to examine the journal.” 

I put my hood up and climbed onto the roof.


	7. Reunion

The next night I came back to Arcadius’s office. The professor glanced up from reading the journal and motioned to a chair, “Take a seat. I’m at an interesting passage.” 

He went back to reading. I took off my cloak, draped it over a nearby skeleton and sat down on a chest. I pulled an apple from my pocket, took a bite and looked around the room, waiting. I thought about what I might do now that I needn’t be at the professor’s beck and call. Freedom. I hadn’t really let myself think about it, but now that the possibility was just a couple days away, I almost didn’t know where to start. Perhaps Dunmore? But not yet, I was not free yet and I had a sinking feeling Arcadius wasn’t done with me. Glancing over the various bookshelves, cluttered with all manner of arcane books and strange objects, I wondered ‘What are you up to old man?’ I could not let myself forget that Arcadius was a calculating devil. He’d come up with some pretty complicated schemes before and was not to be underestimated. 

Then, Hadrian Blackwater, vibrant as ever, breezed into the room. He saw me immediately. “You!” he accused. 

Our surprise was mutual, although I tried to kept my expression neutral. I scanned his body, but he was unharmed - still powerful and lean. Yes, there was another day’s worth of brown stubble on his face, but otherwise Hadrian was as hale and hearty as I’d last seen him. I calmly placed a coin on Arcadius’s desk, but inwardly I was astounded that the idiot had survived. As the frustration rolled through me, I fought to keep my composure. How had that hapless brute somehow made it out of that tavern alive?.

“How did you survive?” I asked.

“I didn’t fight them.” he replied, defiant.

“You ran? You must be fast.” My tone was cutting and sarcastic.

It seemed he’d simply befriended the people at the tavern and that they’d vouched for him. Impossible! It had been a good plan and yet I still couldn’t shake him. This clueless man was driving me crazy, but I couldn’t let it show. 

On top of my frustration with Hadrian’s lucky blundering, Arcadius was holding me to the specific terms of the task. 

I protested, “The book was the prize, you have it. He only was to come along in case there was trouble, which there wasn’t any.” But no, that wasn’t the point. My debt to him remained. “You only wanted to borrow the book? Now you want to put it back!” I was momentarily confused until it hit me, Arcadius had expected me to dump Hadrian all along. He had planned for this. Damn. I’d forgotten how clever the professor could be. I had to give him credit for out-planning me and I smiled reluctantly. It was no use. Arcadius had me just where he wanted me

The professor talked and tried to convince me that Hadrian should be my partner. My partner, the man was baggage. I got fed up. I didn’t need a partner. I didn’t need anyone. I’d gotten the stupid book hadn’t I? 

I tried one more time, “I managed it in less time than it took him to ride back here.” 

But Arcadius persisted, “No cheating this time.” His tone brooked no opposition.

His words only made me more determined than ever to be rid of them both, once and for all. I sneered and moved towards Hadrian. He unsheathed his two swords, but I ignored them. 

“When I kill you, you won’t see me coming.” I spat the words at Hadrian and left.


	8. Passion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up - the Rape/Non-Con warning is for a dream sequence here, in chapter 8.

Hadrian and I left the university for a second time. We passed the turn-off to Iverton and weren’t far from the Crown Tower. Many things were still bothering me about this job. Not the least of which were my conflicting thoughts about Hadrian. The part of my mind that was rational knew he was an unskilled soldier, a blundering gossip and an utter idiot. However, the part of my mind that kept giving me dreams about how his mouth might feel on my skin, did not give up. 

Another problem with this assignment was that it felt all wrong. The job itself was meaningless. Arcadius kept telling both of us he wanted us to be together, to become partners. Could the professor know that I was drawn to Hadrian, physically? Arcadius was a queer fellow, but not that kind of queer, at least I didn’t think so. In any case, the old man was setting us up for something and I didn’t like it. I kept telling myself that at least the plan was in motion and it wouldn’t be long before I could put both Arcadius and Hadrian behind me. I was actually starting to feel pretty good about the situation and I had several good ideas about how I could finish Hadrian off - cutting the rope as he climbed, leaving him to die on the top of the tower, or simply abandoning him in the city as the guards swarmed him. It was only a matter of time.

We turned off the main path and I found the spot I’d previously used as a base - a low, wet area concealed by a briar patch. The Tower wasn’t far away now. 

Deciding to be civil with Hadrian, if only because he’d be dead in less than 24 hours, I asked him “Can you cook? This is our last chance to eat.” I started arranging some wood for a fire. “When we’re done I’d prefer it if you went a different way than I do. I’ll likely head east to Dunmore, so you can pick any other direction.” Feeling generous and optimistic, I continued. “I’m no cook. So if there is any truth to what Arcadius said about us being opposites, I’ll bet you’re a chef.”

“Pickles is dead.” Hadrian said accusingly.

“What?” I said. It was the tone of his voice, sharp yet sad, that caught me by surprise, 

“You heard me.” He spit back, “You hear every stupid thing anyone says. That’s the most annoying this about you, well, not the most. It is really hard to order them, the list is so ridiculously long.” 

I was startled that he’d confronted me about Pickles’s death.

Hadrian kept at it, “He was executed for the crime you committed!” 

I tried to brush it off. What was the big deal? Yet Hadrian was astonished that I didn’t feel any remorse. I peered at him, puzzled. It was as if we were speaking in two different languages. “What world do you live in?” I asked.

“One in which you don’t stab boys and let other boys die for it.” His words were fierce, but he seemed on the verge of tears.”They’re just kids…”

Then it stuck me. Hadrian had deep, heart-felt convictions about what was right and what was wrong. As empty as his head might be of other sane notions, like caution, the man had principles. Yes, they were childish, illogical principles, but strongly-felt principles nonetheless. There was a sort of thrilling intensity to his insistence that I should feel guilty about what happened to his pathetic young friend. Hadrian was still an idiot, but the fire in his eyes showed that he was capable of passion. 

“It doesn’t matter.” I kept my frustration at bay and tried to explain, “If someone intends you harm, and you have the opportunity, you kill them. Anything else leads to complications that you don’t need.”

Hadrian persisted, “You don’t care at all about Pickles!” 

I agreed, “Not in the slightest.” Maybe he was finally getting it and we could drop the subject. “I also don’t see how this conversation benefits us.”

“It benefits me, because I want to know how you can be so Goddamned cruel.”

“It’s a gift.”

“You’re a bastard you know that!”

As I calmly refused to take his bait and showed no remorse over Pickles’s fate, Hadrian became angry. I’d seen him angry before, upset and frustrated, but not like this. I’d had enough of trying to be nice and decided to match his tone. 

I was brutally honest with him about the dangers he faced. “When you fall, you’ll have the book on you. Since Arcadius already said that if you fall on your own, it's not my fault, my obligations will be fulfilled.” I laid out all my hostility, all my frustration, all my eagerness to be through with him.

The fire in Hadrian’s eyes burned hotter, “I’m going to climb that tower. I’m going to put the book back. And then I’m going to show you what this big sword on my back can do. And we’ll see who hits the cobblestones first.”

I ate my meal cold, but my blood was still hot after our argument. I realized that I was pleasantly surprised he’d actually, truly, wanted to kill me. “Good.” I thought, “Now we’re on equal terms. ” 

We slept a few hours while the sun was up. I dreamed of him again. Instead of just lying down to sleep after arguing with me, I dreamed Hadrian had kept his fierce glare on me. The passion and intensity was directed straight at me. I flinched and looked down. Still pissed off, Hadrian had roared, “Heartless snake!” and lunged at me, shoving me to the ground. I wrestled with him, trying to kick him off me, but he was too big, too strong. Soon, Hadrian had me in tight grip. He spit out “I’ll make you pay for what you did.” While holding me tightly from behind, Hadrian somehow tugged down my pants. I felt panic descend, but I didn’t dare cry out or show him my fear. I felt him press into my cold, naked backside before I bolted awake.


	9. The Crown Tower

On the top of the Crown Tower, the wind was fierce. Hadrian had just dropped the journal, and we’d run in opposite directions. My heart sank at the sight of the five tower guards. I had no chance to escape alive. Hadrian, on the other hand, had gotten away. Why? Why did that foolish man get so lucky? Every time I’d plan to do the smart thing and he did the stupid thing, he made it out without a scratch. Of course, Hadrian had done exactly what I’d planned to do, only he’d done it on accident. I knew there was little I could do to survive this situation, but instinct wouldn’t let me give up. 

Then, amazingly, just as I was sure to get a sword through my neck, Hadrian came back. I was baffled, paralyzed, as my brain tried to make sense of it. It couldn’t be Hadrian, perhaps it was someone else? I didn’t know which shocked me more, that Hadrian and come back to help me or that he actually knew how to fight. Had Hadrian gotten lost and missed the rope? 

Confident and tall, Hadrian moved up beside me. “Get behind me.” He ordered. “Once I start fighting, run back around the tower. Get to the rope and head down.” 

Why was he risking his life to help me? 

Then something else struck me, I blurted out “Hey, you’re wearing your harness,” Which meant Hadrian had gotten to the rope and clearly could have left me to die. It didn’t make any sense.

“I almost went down,” he answered honestly. “Good thing I realized you were in trouble.” 

Hadrian continued to fight, feignting and thrusting, darting and hacking. My heart was racing and I was astounded at the way Hadrian moved. I watched in awe.

“I told you to leave!” Hadrian shouted at me.

I was mesmerized. The way he moved was amazing. I’d seen enough fights to know Hadrian should have been dead. But he kept fighting, even when one of his swords was snapped in half and the other was flung away over the edge of the parapet. Hadrian had grace, strength and, even more surprising, tactics. 

Hadrian cried, “Run!” His words finally snapped me out of my daze. 

I ran and tried to dodge the golden tower guard that had come around the walkway.. It was no use. Fire suddenly burned into my side as a blade cut me deep. The pain shot through my body and I tumbled to the ground. I landed on my back and could only watch, helpless, as the golden guard lunged at me. Then, CLANK. Sparks flew off the guard’s halberd as the weapon was forced into the stone wall. Hadrian was there, crouching just above me. He had his big sword out and hammered the guard, striking blow after powerful blow, forcing the enemy back. 

Hadrian was anticipating the guard’s every move, reading his opponent easily. The pain in my side was getting worse and my clothes were getting soaked with blood. Then, the guard pivoted and made his way back towards me. Hadrian slipped in some blood, rolled down next to me, but still managed to block the guard’s attack. Now we were both on the ground. Dread crept up my spine. There was no way we would survive. But Hadrian proved he was actually a step, no, two steps, ahead of the enemy. Hadrian positioned himself and shoved his weapon into the man’s chest, making the guard slip in the pool of blood and tumble over the edge. Hadrian actually was a planner, a good one. I was alarmed to discover that Hadrian nothing short of brilliant.


	10. Iverton

At the tavern in Iverton, Hadrian stitched my wounds. I lay there, weak and lightheaded, feeling like I was drunk. 

“How you feeling?” Hardian's voice drifted through my head, cheery as ever. 

“Like someone tried to kill me by slicing my stomach open, then someone else tried to finish the job by drowning me in a river.” Stringing words together to make sentences was challenging. I kept my eyes closed. “How am I actually?” 

“Not as bad as I expected.” He answered. 

I heard his voice, but his face swum back an forth into focus. What was he saying? Where were we? 

“Twenty seven stitches,” He finished.

“I’m so glad you counted. Couldn't have lived without that.” I was just blathering now.

I struggled to remember the details of what had happened. Hadrian had saved me from the tower, slogged us through the river, through a lake too, and helped me stagger to the tavern. I was warm and dry now, wrapped in several blankets. 

I opened both eyes and was about something nasty to Hadrian, but stopped. Hadrian had done a good job. He’d saved my life, and risked his own to do it. Hadrian’s altruism was as unsettling to me as the hole in my side, maybe more so. 

I said, “You should have left me there to die. You’d wanted me dead. Why’d you do it?” 

Stupid didn’t cut it anymore. And clearly Hadrian wasn’t stupid. He’d gotten us safely down the tower, across the countryside, taken care of my wounds, while both of them courted death. Hell, they still probably would both die. We didn’t know each other, We didn’t like each other. In fact, we hated each other, and yet….

“Thanks.” I heard myself say.

“What?”

“You heard me.” I answered softly. At least one thing was the same, Hadrian was having hearing problems.

“Maybe the struggle to get that word out was what was making you nauseous.” Hadrian flashed a grin. That giant, charming smile that melted away everyone’s resistance. I was no exception.

The silence stretched out and our gazes locked. His eyes were warm and a lovely shade of blue. Although we were on the run from the tower guards, both of us seriously injured, and me not far from death, Hadrian looked almost happy. I couldn’t look away. The whole world felt like it was turning upside down and Hadrian’s charming eyes were an anchor in the chaos. 

A twinge in my gut brought my attention back to our situation. I asked where were we and what was going on? Hadrian explained that Doogan, the proprietor of the tavern, had gone to fetch water from the well in the village. Understanding hit me and I knew we were about to be betrayed.

“We need to leave,” I told him. “Now.”

“Now?” Hadrian helped me to my feet.  
I explained, “The last time we were here Dougan told you everyone got their water from the lake. ‘Just walk out with a bucket and scoop it up, crystal clear.’ He’d said. This village doesn’t even have a well. Remember?” Bolts of pain ripped through me, but I managed to walk slowly, leaning heavily on furniture as I staggered to the door.

“I’ll get our things.” Hadrian said.

I reassessed Hadrian’s capabilities. The man was physically impressive, an amazing fighter, adept at battle strategy, passionate about his principles, but in some many ways still as dumb as a door knob and naive as a child. It was clear that Hadrian needed me, and my wits, if we were going to survive.


	11. Interrogations

I couldn’t go on. I’d tried to ignore it, but the pain in my side was overwhelming. I fell to the ground and vomited, again and again. Hadrian suggested we rest and, for once, I found I couldn’t argue with him. 

We lay on our backs, shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the darkening sky. My wound burned something fierce. 

“Where’s that pitch covered canvas you were going to make for me?” I asked.

“I forgot.” I could tell he was smiling even though I couldn’t see his face. I could just picture his giant grin. His playful tone was infectious.

“Can’t count on you for anything.” I answered, smiling too.

“Nope, I’ll abandon you at the first sign of trouble.” Hadrian replied slyly. Was he flirting?

I turned to face Hadrian and waited until he looked back. “You know I would have.” I said, “I would have left you do die. Tried to in fact.” The smiles dropped from both our faces.

”I know.” Hadrian said softly.

“And still you came back.” I couldn’t understand what was going through his head. Could it be that Hadrian was drawn to me, the way I was to him? Did he also dream of me and wake up hard in the morning?

“Yep.” He answered a bit more brightly.

“Why?” I needed to understand.

“I’m stupid remember.” His tone changed, darkened.

“No really why?” I needed to know.

“You’re my partner,” was all Hadrian said.

I could smell the storm coming, but clouds hadn’t obscured the sky yet. The first stars began to shine down on us. Merrick had been my partner once. But if Merrick had been on that tower with me, he would have let me die. 

“You know the moment you dropped that book we stopped being partners.” I knew we were going to die in any case. It was only a matter of time. I decided to push him.

”Oh yeah, You’re right. I should have left you for dead after all.” He was being stubborn. Why? What was he thinking? Feeling?

“So what’s the real reason?” I didn’t let up. “You said you were going to kill me with that big sword.”

“You're right. Dammit. I forgot.” He sighed dramatically. “Can we do that later? I’m pretty comfortable right now”

As soon as he said it, I felt comfortable too. The pain in my side had dulled to moderate ache and a stillness crept over me. None of it made any sense. The Nyphron Church forces were crawling the land searching for us and we were doomed. But somehow, stretched out on the ground, with a storm whispering close by, the stars winking into view, and Hadrian by my side, I felt strangely at peace. I could hear Hadrian’s breathing. His hand was just a few inches away from mine. I could reach out, touch him, and feel the pulse in his warm grasp. But I kept my hand still.

Hadrian sighed and kept looking at the sky. “I came back, because that’s who I am.” The clouds rolled in and drops of rain started to hit the ground. Then the storm hit and soaked us to the bone. Hadrian fell asleep and I tried to rest, but the sound of pounding hooves on the surrounding hills kept sleep from me. In the morning, Hadrian halfheartedly scrounged some berries from some nearby bushes. I had my hood up but it didn’t keep out the rain

Hadrian moved slowly, his large form moving gingerly. He seemed distracted, like his mind was fixed on something. I felt that Hadrian was on the brink of breaking. Would he tell me what I desperately wanted to hear? Did he want me the way I wanted him?

“So what’s you story?” Hadrian asked me holding out a handful of purple berries.

At first I tried to dismiss his curiosity, but Hadrian persisted. So I told him, about being an orphan, my earliest memories of going hungry, escaping the workhouse, then making my way with the Wolves. I found myself telling him everything, well almost everything, certainly more than I’d ever told anyone before. Perhaps it was the shock and the blood loss, but the words kept coming out of my mouth. I stopped short of telling him all the details with Merrick, but I think he understood.

Next, Hadrian told me his story growing up an apprentice to his father, learning to fight and be a smith. I found myself leaning in, really listening to his tale. He had mixed feelings about his father, love and pride, but also rejection and loss. 

I nearly stopped breathing when Hadrian told me why he’d left his home town. He had fallen in love with a girl, wanted to marry her, nearly killed his rival over her. My heart sank. I stopped hearing the rest of what he was saying and just kept hearing his words over and over again. “I was going to marry her.” Then I got angry, with myself more than anything, and mentally kicked myself for being such a fool. He must have seen the pained look on my face and he asked, “What is it?”

Instead of telling him what was really bothering me, that I was berating myself for being a delusional idiot, I pointed down to the line of men approaching, “They’ve got dogs.”


	12. Tom the Feather

I didn’t think our situation could have gotten worse, but Hadrian had been right. Things could always be worse. After the encounter at Tom the Feather’s house, Hadrian and I were done for. Both of us were gravely injured and there was no hope. 

So much of what had happened was a blur. One moment we were fighting together, seamlessly. I had anticipated his moves and he complimented mine. We were poetry in motion. Unfortunately, the horse we’d thought to escape on had died while falling on top of me. Then, the fight was over and the rain poured down harder. I couldn’t even sit up and Hadrian lay still in the mud with an arrow sticking out of his back. I was broken, both my body and my spirit.

Arcadius had been right about us. Too bad I didn’t see it earlier. We’d have made excellent partners. The now familiar combination of frustration and longing for what could never be coursed through me again. Hadrian should have left me to die on the tower. In fact, he’d have been chatting happily in some warm tavern by now, not dying in mud puddle. 

From out of nowhere, a horse and cart swam out of the downpour. The church forces had finally caught us. This would be the beginning of the end. We were placed in the wagon, probably to be taken to trial. Hadrian was unconscious, barely breathing. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but I whispered “Old lunatic was right about us. We did make a good team.” I reached down, felt around, and grasped Hadrian’s limp hand in my own. Then I passed out.


	13. Desperation

I woke later, feeling like a horse had fallen on me. Then the memories flooded back. The fight in the rain, Hadrian being shot by an arrow, and hands dragging us up onto a wagon. Hadrian and I were still in the cart. I paid attention to our surroundings. The sky was dark and dotted with stars. The storm clouds were long gone so we must have traveled for hours. From the run-down buildings on either side, I figured we were in a city, some crappy miserable town. The streets were deserted and we were alone. Perhaps there was still a chance?

I turned to face Hadrian. Amazingly, he was still breathing, although weakly. Desperation seized me. My leg screamed in pain and my side burned, but I struggled to get up on my elbows and look over the side of the cart. The street was still quiet. A new wetness was seeping into my shirt; I was bleeding again. To hell with that. I’d never done anything this impulsive and risky in my life, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was Hadrian.

“Help.” I said hoarsely and wavered. I’d never pleaded for anything in my life and it was jarring to hear the word coming out of my mouth.

“Help us.” There was only one way to save Hadrian, no matter the cost to my pride, or my life.

I lay there, pathetic and begging to the empty street, “At least save him. He didn’t do anything wrong. He just tried to help.” Hadrian was everything I wasn’t - kind, charming, and principled.

“He doesn’t deserve to die.” No answer, just sound of distance shutters rattling shut. “Help us.”

I thought of Hadrian’s shining, grinning face. His sparkling blue eyes. His beautiful soul. I could have lost myself in him if he’d have let me.

“I’ve got you.” A woman answered. A sea of pain was swallowing me, but I turned to see dark hair framing a kind face. 

I begged “Hadrian, in the wagon. You have to…” I started to black out and struggled to stay conscious. The woman was saying something about getting a doctor.

I tried one more time “Save Hadrian, he…” and then the darkness took me.


	14. Planning

I don’t remember much during the weeks after. Considering my injuries and all the blood I lost, I’m surprised I survived more or less unscathed. I hadn’t expected to survive at all. 

I slept a lot. It's likely I had a fever too because I had strange and disturbing dreams. I remember I dreamed Hadrian and I were back in Tom’s stone farmhouse. The guards had just shoved their way into the main room. I knew that Hadrian was coming forward to attack and I anticipated his movements. I made to throw my dagger Alverstone to catch the guard in the neck, but instead the dagger flew at Hadrian. Hadrian dropped to the floor with a gasp. Shocked, he looked up at me, pressing his hand to his body to try and staunch the blood streaming from his chest. I rushed forward, wrapped my arms around him and held him to my chest. He looked down to my dagger protruding from his body. When he looked back up at me, his expression was bitter. He demanded “Are you happy now?” then Hadrian slumped, lifeless in my arms. I had more dreams, none of them good.

After the fever passed and my side was mostly healed, I began to get stir crazy at being cooped up in Medford House. I wasn’t comfortable with our situation in the brothel, but I couldn’t complain either. Gwen and her people had saved our lives. 

Hadrian had recovered from his injuries faster than I. Not surprisingly, Hadrian had quickly warmed to the unusual setting. He had been his usual friendly self, chatting up all the ladies and generally being considerate and charming. He spent most of his time socializing and helping where he could in the kitchen and so forth. I couldn’t help but wonder if he liked any of the girls; they were whores after all and supposedly attractive in their way. I was still troubled and only found peace up on the roof. In fact, it was tricky to get up there with my leg still in a splint, but it was worth it to get out of the hustle and bustle of the brothel. 

Once I was stronger, at night I would climb out the window and perch on the roof. I always felt better up high, nothing between me and the night sky. I thought back to the nights Hadrian and I had been alone. The time in particular when we’d lain shoulder to shoulder; I’d been close enough to kiss Hadrian. But no, that would have been a mistake. Hadn’t Hadrian had told him he’d been in love with a girl from his village. Perhaps he was still in love with her. 

I decided I needed a plan; I always had a plan. Staying in one place for so long, with nothing to do but rest, heal and think was going to drive me mad. Once I decided on a course of action, I would put it in play and move forward. So, I thought about my options. On the one hand, I could try to make a go of a partnership with Hadrian, hiding my attraction to the big man and continuing as friends. Friends who bickered and insulted each other and would never agree on anything, but who also worked together seamlessly, effortlessly, like mirror images. It wouldn’t be easy, but we’d managed so far. He need never know how much I enjoyed watching him walk. But what if he came to suspect? 

The other option was to be honest. I could just tell him he was the most attractive man I’d ever laid eyes on. Perhaps I could say that I itched to put my hands on his impressive body and all those fine muscles. Or maybe if I said that I dreamed of what his mouth would feel like on me. Yeah right. Then, I had another thought. What if I just waited until Hadrian confronted me. If he asked, I could admit my tendencies toward him, but then I’d risk losing what we’d gained - trust. I highly doubted he would appreciate any advances on my part, in fact there was a good chance he’d take offense. The best I could hope for was a truce and tolerance. What was the ‘right’ thing to do? I had no idea. Knowing what was right was Hadrian’s area of expertise, not mine. 

The possible scenarios bounced back and forth in my head. In the end I decided a purely business partnership was wisest course. I didn’t need to complicate matters between us. Once I settled on the plan (and really, dishonesty and subterfuge played to my strengths) I felt better. I resolved to move forward and talk to Hadrian about our next moves and keep our relationship strictly platonic.


	15. Partners

A couple weeks later, it was music night at Medford House. Usually I stayed out of the way. I preferred to sit on the roof listening to the strains of lute and pipe that floated out the window. However, tonight I came down to watch from the landing at the top of the stairs. Hadrian was sitting on a bench, tapping his feet to the beat and watching the dancing. He talked freely with the other guests and was obviously enjoying the party. I hadn’t seen him dance with any of the girls yet, but then again he wasn’t a customer, so it wouldn’t have been appropriate. Did he know how to dance? I watched him, imagining what it might feel like to hold him in my arms. If the way they fought together was any indication, dancing with Hadrian would probably be wonderful. 

Hadrian was clean shaven now and I couldn’t decide if I liked his face better with or without the beard. Smooth cheeked he looked polished and charming. Although the rougher, wild look worked too. Just then, Hadrian looked up and caught me staring at him. I put my hood up immediately, but he just smiled up at me and winked. 

The musicians took a break and some of the customers started to drift upstairs with their escorts. I decided to make myself scarce up on the roof. I was surprised however, when Hadrian followed me. He poked his head out the window and carefully pulled himself up onto the sill. This was the first time he’d come up to join me at my perch and he struggled a bit to fit out the window. 

Hadrian settled in next to me and grinned, “Music night here is great isn’t it?” The moon was almost full and it cast a faint light on the city below.

“Hmm.” I made some noncommittal noise. Having him outside with me, so close, under the naked sky, was going to be difficult. In the cold night air, I could feel his warmth next to me. I took a deep breath of fresh air to steady my nerves. I put up my hood.

“Why didn’t you come down and sit with me?” Hadrian asked. “ I saw the way you were staring, like a starving man gazing at a roast turkey.” 

I froze. “What?” I said. I didn’t dare look at him.

He replied, “Now who has a hearing problem?” I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed.

I felt a blush creeping into my face and was grateful for my hood. Dread leaked into my heart. I said nothing but thought “Damn. He knows. He knows I want him. Now I’ve gone and ruined everything.”

Hadrian cleared his throat and continued, “I’ve been thinking about what we should do next. Now that we’re mostly all healed up, maybe we can do something to pay back Gwen for all her help. I’ve been doing what I can, here and there, but you plan better than I do. What do you think Royce?” His voice was tentative, not bright like he usually sounded.

I couldn’t stand the mortification. What he must think of me! My heart beat wildly and I said softly “I think it might be best if we went our separate ways.” 

The silence stretched for several seconds, then he replied dumbfounded, “You can’t be serious.” I couldn’t bear to look at him, but I sensed him shake his head slightly, confused.

He continued, “What are you talking about? You know Arcadius was right about us; we obviously make a good team. You saw how well we worked together up on the tower and at Tom the Feather’s house.”  
I couldn’t help it, I turned and looked at him directly. Hadrian met my eyes and in the soft moonlight, I saw the sincerity and a tinge of hurt on his face.

“We’re good together,” he insisted.

I took a deep breath, set my jaw and I tried to sound firm, “It won’t work, believe me. I just won’t.” 

Then Hadrian got angry, the fire danced in his eyes. I remembered how passionate he’d gotten about Pickles’ death and my heart seized. 

“Bull shit,” He spat out. “Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t be partners. No excuses or justifications. Just one GOOD reason.” 

I paused, my lips pressed tight, my breath was coming out sharply through my nose, “I want you.” 

There, I’d said it. Let the chips fall where they man. 

The fight immediately went out of Hadrian “What?” he said.

I snorted and answered sarcastically, “Here we go with the hearing problem again.” 

Hadrian only looked back, confused. Unable to stand it any longer, I leaned forward, tilted my face up to his and kissed him, soft yet firm. Hadrian’s lips were warm and smooth and he didn’t pull away, but he also didn’t kiss back. Quickly, I pulled away, looked down at my boots, took a deep breath, and swallowed hard. “I’ve wanted to do that since the first day I saw you.” 

The silence seemed to stretch out forever. Then I heard the strains of music starting back up from downstairs.

Hadrian mused, “I’ve never been kissed by another man before.”

I looked out, over the city. The night air was cool on my face and I wrapped my cloak about me protectively. I thought, ‘Damn, now I’ve done it. I’ve gone and ruined everything. Why couldn’t I just stick to the plan?’ The melody from downstairs was jaunty and light, the exact opposite of how I felt.

Then Hadrian reached out, past my hood and touched my face. Gently he tilted my head towards his and I saw his smile, broad and unabashed, “I think I”ll have to try it again.” 

Hadrian leaned in and I froze, my heart beating as if I were sprinting. He kissed me gently at first, and as I responded, he kissed me again and again. Each kiss got harder and more demanding. My hood fell off my head and I put my arms around Hadrian’s waist, pulling him close. My pulse raced as joy and relief surged through me. He felt so good, better than I’d imagined. I moved my hands up his back, wanting to hold on tight, but then Hadrian gasped “Ah!” He winced, “My ribs.”

I immediately dropped my hands and stammered, “Sorry, sorry, Damn. I forgot your wound, sorry.” 

Hadrian’s eyes danced in the moonlight, his grin never faltering. He grabbed my hand, his breath also coming in fast. “Why don’t we go downstairs and enjoy the music, together?” I smiled slightly, nodded, and followed my partner downstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn’t find any other stories shipping Hadrian and Royce. It seemed obvious to me so I had to write this. If you know of any other fanfic with these two, please let me know.
> 
> Also, if you are interested in something with more smut, or another angle, leave a message.


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